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[Psalms 24, 47, 68, 96.--Hymns 114, 119, 121, 191, 199.1


1 OUR Lord is risen from the dead,
Our Saviour is gone up on high:
The powers of hell are captive led,
Dragg'd to the portals of the sky.

2 There his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chaunt the solemn lay:
Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates;
Ye everlasting doors, give way.

3 Loose all your bars of massy light,
And wide unfold th' ethereal scene:
He claims these mansions as his right;
Receive the King of Glory in.

4 Who is the King of Glory, who?
The Lord that all his foes o'ercame,
That sin, and death, and hell o'erthrew;
And Jesus is the conqu'ror's name.

5 Lo! his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chaunt the solemn lay:
Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates;
Ye everlasting doors, give way.

6 Who is the King of Glory, who?
The Lord of boundless power possess'd;
The King of saints and angels too,
God over all, for ever blest.


1 HE dies! the Friend of sinners dies Lo! Salem's daughters weep around; A solemn darkness veils the skies, A sudden trembling shakes the ground. 2 Here's love and grief beyond degree, The Lord of Glory dies for men! But, lo! what sudden joys we see! Jesus, the dead, revives again! 3 The rising God forsakes the tomb, Up to his Father's court he flies: Cherubic legions guard him home, And shout him welcome to the skies! 4 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell How high our great Deliv'rer reigns: Sing how he spoil'd the hosts of hell, And led the monster, Death, in chains! 5 Say, “Live for ever, wondrous King, "Born to redeem, and strong to save!" Then ask the monster, "Where's thy sting? "And where thy vict'ry, boasting grave ?"



1 I SING my Saviour's wondrous death
He conquer'd when he fell :
“'Tis finish'd!” said his dying breath,
And shook the gates of hell.


2 "Tis finish'd!" our Immanuel cries;
The dreadful work is done:

Hence shall his sov'reign throne arise,
His kingdom is begun.

3 His cross a sure foundation laid

For glory and renown;

When through the regions of the dead
He pass'd to reach the crown.

4 Exalted at his Father's side
Sits our victorious Lord:

To heav'n and hell his hands divide
The vengeance or reward.

5 The saints from his propitious eye
Await their sev'ral crowns;
And all the powers of darkness fly
The terror of his frowns.


1 REJOICE! the Lord is King!
Your God and King adore;
Loud hallelujahs sing,

And triumph evermore:
Lift up the heart, lift up the voice,
Rejoice, ye saints of God, rejoice!
2 Rejoice! the Saviour reigns,
The God of truth and love;
When he had purg'd our stains,
He took his seat above:

Lift up, &c.

3 His kingdom cannot fail,

He rules o'er earth and heav'n;
The keys of death and hell
Into his hands are giv'n:

Lift up, &c.

4 Rejoice in glorious hope!

Jesus the judge shall come,
And take his servants up

To their eternal home:

We soon shall hear th' Archangel's voice,
The trump of God shall sound, Rejoice!


1 HOSANNA to our conqu❜ring King!
The prince of darkness flies:
His troops rush headlong down to hell,
Like lightning from the skies.

2 Hosanna to our conqu'ring King!
All hail, incarnate Love!

Ten thousand songs and glories wait
To crown thy head above.

3 Thy vict'ries and thy deathless fame
Through the wide world shall run,
And everlasting ages sing

The triumphs thou hast won.


1 JOIN all the glorious names
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That ever mortals knew,
That angels ever bore:

All are too mean to speak his worth,
Too mean to set my Saviour forth.

2 Great Prophet of my God,

My tongue would bless thy name:
By thee the joyful news

Of our salvation came;

The joyful news of sins forgiv'n,

Of hell subdu'd, and peace with heav'n.

3 I love my Shepherd's voice;

His watchful eyes shall keep
My wand'ring soul among
The thousands of his sheep:

He feeds his flock, he calls their names,
His bosom bears the tender lambs.

4 Jesus, my great High-Priest,
Offer'd his blood and died:
My guilty conscience seeks
No sacrifice beside:

His powerful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.

5 Now let my soul arise,

And tread the tempter down;

My Captain leads me forth

To conquest and a crown,

A feeble saint shall win the day,

Tho' death and hell obstruct the way.


1 ALL hail the great Immanuel's name! Let angels prostrate fall: Bring forth the royal diadem,

And crown him Lord of all.

2 Crown him, ye Martyrs of your God,
Who from his altar call:
Extol the stem of Jesse's rod,
And crown him Lord of all.

3 Ye chosen seed of Israel's race,
A remnant weak and small;
Hail him, who saves you by his grace,
And crown him Lord of all.

4 Ye Gentile sinners, ne'er forget
The wormwood and the gall:
Go, spread your trophies at his feet,
And crown him Lord of all.

5 Let ev'ry kindred, ev'ry tribe,
On this terrestrial ball,

To him all majesty ascribe,
And crown him Lord of all,

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